


Daichi's Confused Dick and the Skirts of Red (Beef Party w/ Tofu)

by EzzyDean



Series: Daichi's Dick Adventures [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Boys in Skirts, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-28 07:42:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7631158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzzyDean/pseuds/EzzyDean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What are you wearing?”  Daichi finally asked after Hajime gave him a wave and turned back to the game and started scrolling through to find the track he wanted to race on.</p><p>“Clothes,” Hajime replied.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daichi's Confused Dick and the Skirts of Red (Beef Party w/ Tofu)

**Author's Note:**

> Part of Ry and my pet project lovingly called "Daichi's Dick Adventures"

Daichi tossed out a quick greeting on his way through the living room where Hajime and Suga were relaxing, so intent on getting changed out of his work clothes that he barely glanced at them as he hurried by with Bokuto hot on his heels eager to do the same.

Hajime could have burst out laughing when Daichi came back into the living room, half undressed, and stared at them with Bokuto grumbling in the hallway about Daichi nearly running him over and what was the big idea.  Hajime would have burst out laughing at the dumbfounded look on Bokuto’s face when he peeked over Daichi’s shoulder if he hadn’t been busy concentrating on the tv screen and absolutely crushing Oikawa on yet another round of races.

“Suck on that, Oikawa,” Hajime crowed through the mic and he did laugh at the colorful phrases his best friend spit back at him before signing off for the afternoon.  Suga tutted at him from the other end of the couch, legs tucked under him and book open in his lap, but Hajime just laughed.  “Hey he’s the one who challenged me, Suga.  If he can’t back up all his big talk he needs to just shut his mouth.”  Hajime backed out to the main menu of the game and glanced over towards the hallway.

“What are you wearing?”  Daichi finally asked after Hajime gave him a wave and turned back to the game and started scrolling through to find the track he wanted to race on.

“Clothes,” Hajime replied, eyes flicking towards Daichi and Bokuto again before settling on the screen, not even giving his own outfit, or Suga’s, a second glance.  “Which is more than I can say for you apparently.”

Daichi stupidly looked down at his own naked torso and half unbuttoned pants and blushed.

“I… uh… shut up I was distracted,” Daichi whined when Suga started laughing nervously from the other end of the couch.  Hajime glanced over and grinned at Suga.  He was happy to see Suga’s shoulders relaxing as he smiled back.

“Go and finish getting changed you two.  We’ll be here when you get back.”  Suga waved at them and Hajime turned his attention back to the tv screen.

“Told you,” Hajime said.  He stretched his white stockinged legs out, crossed at the ankles, and leaned against the back of the couch again.

“Shush.”  Suga shifted until he was settled on the couch with one dark blue stocking covered leg tucked under him and the other swinging as he gently tapped the bottom of the couch with his heel.

Hajime sighed after about thirty seconds and paused his game so he could lean to the right and bat at Suga’s hands.

“Stop playing with it.”  Suga let go of the hem and then started plucking at the fabric instead.  “Suga,” Hajime warned as he pulled Suga’s hand away from the fabric, “stop.  You look amazing.  Don’t worry about it.”

Bokuto came back in then and Hajime let go of Suga’s hand so Bokuto could drop onto the couch between them - with Suga on his right and Hajime on his left - and went back to his game after dropping his headset on the table next to the couch.

Bokuto ran his fingers along the bottom hem of Suga’s red dress - which landed just above mid-thigh - dipping under to feel the stiffer material of the dark blue petticoat before sliding out again to glide up to the cinched waist.  He reached up to touch the almost sheer red material against Suga’s shoulders before dropping his hand back down so he could play with the silky red bow resting against the small of Suga’s back.

Bokuto appreciated the way Iwaizumi looked in his plaid skirt, white stockings, white blouse combo.  He really did.  But Suga had captured him the moment his brain finally caught up and registered what was perched on the edge of the couch.  

Iwaizumi looked amazing, sure, but Suga with his pale skin and red dress and dark blue stockings was glorious.  He was a dark clothed angel sent to bless Bokuto.  A pale siren sent to drag him under the sea, blush staining his cheeks and shy smile singing the most tempting song in Bokuto’s mind.  He was an untouchable masterpiece that Bokuto couldn’t keep his hands off of.

The fabric of Suga’s skirt whispered against Bokuto’s skin as he trailed his fingers across it again and again, feeling the soft material glide against his hand and the harsher material of the petticoat scrape gently against the pads of his fingers.  Suga laughed when Bokuto’s other hand slid along his dark blue stocking and tickled the back of his knee before settling heavy and warm on his thigh.

“Gorgeous,” Bokuto announced in that way of his: like there was no other option at all but the one he just delivered.

“Gorgeous,” Daichi agreed from the doorway.  Hajime glanced over, expecting to see Daichi’s eyes locked on Suga.  It was only fitting: Suga was the most breathtaking one of them after all.  And his eyes were there, taking in the way the red dress settled neatly against Suga’s skin and accentuated his waist, even sitting the way he was, but then Daichi’s gaze flickered over and settled heavily on Hajime and heat flooded his cheeks.  “Absolutely fucking gorgeous.”

Hajime fidgeted, ankles pressing tightly together when Daichi’s gaze dropped past the edge of his knee length red plaid skirt and followed the white stockings down and then back up again.  Daichi stepped up to the couch and loomed over Hajime, eyes thoughtful as his gaze ran from Hajime’s waist and up the tucked in white blouse he was wearing, flickering towards Suga for only a moment when he laughed at something Bokuto did, and then focusing in on Hajime again.  Daichi reached out and gently tugged at the thin red ribbon tucked under Hajime’s collar and tied in a loose loopy bow at his throat and for a moment Hajime forgot to breathe.

“Very nice choices,” Daichi murmured.  Then he grinned and dropped onto the floor to Hajime’s left, back propped against the couch and shoulder pressing into Hajime’s thigh.  Hajime shifted a little closer to Bokuto to give Daichi a little more room but Daichi simply scooted over and pressed his shoulder into Hajime’s thigh again.

“Don’t be trying to look up my skirt,” Hajime said when he remembered how to breathe.  Daichi’s fingers were warm through Hajime’s stockings as he traced patterns against the material and tickled lightly at Hajime’s ankles until Hajime nudged him with his knee.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”  

Daichi ran a finger down the backside of Hajime’s calf.  Hajime picked up his controller once again.  But he was already pretty sure he wouldn’t be finishing this race.

He could see Suga fidgeting out of the corner of his eye down on the other end of the couch; most likely due to the intensity of Bokuto’s stare and his own nervousness at wearing the dress.  He had come to Hajime earlier that morning after Bokuto and Daichi had left and mentioned wanting to wear the dress he had bought a couple weeks ago but that he felt awkward getting dressed up for no reason.  So Hajime had told Suga to pick out something for him to wear too and they’d both dress a little less casually that day even if all they did was laze about and read or watch a movie.

“You can look up my skirt if you’d like, Dai.”  Hajime felt Daichi stiffen against him and glanced down to see a contemplative look on his face.

“Really now?”  A quick glance at Suga confirmed what Hajime assumed: Suga was still nervous about the attention he was getting because of the dress.  But this was less nervous about the dress itself and more nervous because Bokuto was _still_ staring at him like he was dessert ready to be stolen away somewhere and devoured.

Daichi saw it too, obviously, because he grinned deviously and leaned around Hajime’s legs to reach out towards Suga with grabby hands and wriggling fingers.

Bokuto reached down, without taking his eyes off the way the fingers of his other hand were tangled in the bow at Suga’s back, and smacked Daichi’s hand away.

“Don’t be rude, Daichi,” Bokuto stated, pointing at him before returning his hand to Suga’s thigh and running his finger along the top of his stocking.

Daichi scoffed.  “Hey.  Suga told me to.”

Bokuto hummed, eyes darting towards Daichi for a moment.  “You know better,” he warned.

“Me?  Rude?” Daichi muttered as he draped himself around Hajime’s legs and propped his chin on Hajime’s knee.  “You’re rude.”

Suga’s laugh - pure and clear and, best of all, completely without nerves - broke whatever spell had been on Bokuto and he blinked a few times before he settled back into the middle spot on the couch, one hand still resting against the bow on Suga’s back.

“Um, Iwa?”  Bokuto stared at the tv.  “Your race is over and you kinda didn’t finish.”

Hajime looked up to the tv to see his car crashed into a wall and the results scrolling by.  Daichi snorted and leaned his head against Hajime’s knee, fingers still tracing patterns along Hajime’s stockings.

Hajime’s leg jerked slightly as Daichi’s fingers skimmed up his calf and into the dip of the back of his knee.  He glared down at Daichi but it was without much heat.

“Problem?”  Daichi grinned up at him.

“You know I’m ticklish,” Hajime said as Daichi’s fingers drifted back down his calf, “and if you keep that up…” He let his sentence trail off in warning.

“You’ll what?  Not let me copy your homework?”  Daichi stretched up and flicked at the thin loopy bow around Hajime’s neck.  “Tell the teacher on me?”

“I’m going to tie your hands behind your back and make you sit there and watch us three on the couch.”

Daichi’s hand froze, fingers digging lightly into Hajime’s calf as he stared up at him.

“I think he’d like that,” Suga teased.

“A little too much,” Bokuto agreed.

“So are you going to behave or not, Daichi?”  Hajime raised his eyebrows and watched in amusement as Daichi swallowed hard.

Suga scoffed.  “Not.”

“I’m sorry, is _your_ name Daichi?”  Hajime didn’t look at Suga but continued watching Daichi.  Daichi licked his lips and watched back.

“Better not be,” Bokuto growled before Suga could answer.  “Since Daichi’s name isn’t the one I plan on moaning out in a little bit.”

Daichi didn’t look away, though Hajime could tell he wanted to see Suga’s reaction to that, and Hajime smiled.

He shifted on the couch and spread his legs just enough that Daichi could slide over and wrap himself around one of Hajime’s legs, chin on his knee and ass practically sitting on Hajime’s foot.  Daichi stared up at Hajime.

Hajime’s eyes flicked to the side when he heard Suga groan; Bokuto was whispering in his ear as he tugged gently at the hem of Suga’s skirt.  Judging by the whining noise from Suga he was whispering something filthy and lovely and Hajime almost wished he could hear it.

But he had Daichi waiting patiently for him.

He flexed his stocking covered foot and tapped his toes against the curve of Daichi’s ass.

“Daichi,” he said, ignoring the rustling of fabric next to him and staying focused on the man wrapped around his leg, “you didn’t answer my ques-”

Bokuto fell over with a grunt, his head landing on Hajime’s thigh just a few inches from Daichi’s face, Suga in his lap with his hands flying to brace himself on Bokuto’s shoulders as Bokuto’s hands settled on his waist.

“-tion.”

Hajime sighed.  Daichi’s eyes didn’t leave his face for a moment but any feelings of that particular dominant mood he had when Daichi had first challenged him were gone now.  Replaced with mild annoyance and a severe lack of concentration.

 

Hajime let himself relax into the couch.  “You know what?  Do whatever you want Daichi.  I’m just, ugh.”  He gestured to Bokuto using his thigh for a pillow while Suga wiggled around against him.  “I can’t today.”  Daichi blinked a few times, coming back slowly as Hajime tried to find a place to put his arm that wasn’t across Bokuto’s face.

He wondered if Daichi was going to request that they continue - they usually dropped it as soon as one of them called it off but sometimes they couldn’t help by try to convince the other to return to the game - but then Daichi blinked again and slid his hand up Hajime’s leg to gently press against the back of his knee.

“Does that mean I can touch without my hands getting tied behind my back?”

“No promises.”  Hajime’s knee twitched in Daichi’s grip.  “Just stop tickling.”

“No promises,” Daichi teased.  Then he smiled softly.  “Kidding.  No intentional tickling.”

Daichi pressed a kiss to Hajime’s stocking covered knee, rubbed gently at his calf, and smiled up at him.  Something in his eyes gave Hajime goosebumps and for a moment he was pretty sure he knew how meat on a barbeque felt when Bokuto spotted it - if cooked meat was able to have feelings that is.

Daichi’s fingers slid up towards the edge of Hajime’s skirt and Bokuto let out a groan.

“You know you’re kind of distracting,” Hajime said.  Bokuto opened his mouth to respond but Suga leaned forward and placed a hand over his mouth.

“Shut up, Iwaizumi, and show Daichi your stockings.”

Daichi’s fingers stopped just under the hem of Hajime’s skirt and he grinned.  “Oh?  Is there something special about your stockings?”  He could feel the blush staining his cheeks even though he wasn’t really embarrassed by the stockings.  It was the heat of Daichi’s fingers and the way he could feel Daichi’s erection pressing against his ankle and the look of wonder in Daichi’s eyes as he slowly inched his fingers towards the top of Hajime’s stocking that was sending heat through his body; his cheeks were just the most noticeable though he could feel his throat turning red too.

“They’re just stockings,” Hajime replied airily.  Or he tried to.  The way Daichi was pressing against his leg and the little grunts Bokuto was making had his voice coming out gruffer than he expected.  “It’s not like I’m going commando or anything.”

Bokuto went dead silent and Daichi’s head whipped to the side and they both stared, speechless, at Suga.

“Are you really?”  Bokuto’s hands dropped from Suga’s waist to slide up his thighs and under his skirt.  Hajime saw the moment Bokuto realized that Suga was, indeed, underwearless.

“No wonder you offered to let me look up your skirt,” Daichi teased.

“Hajime’s so boring,” Suga gasped as Bokuto did something under his skirt, “wouldn’t even put on a pair of panties.”

“My underwear is perfectly fine, Koushi.”  Daichi’s fingers dug into his thigh and then slide the rest of the way up to the top of his stockings and Hajime shivered.  “They match my stockings rather well.”

Suga paused with a hand wrapped around Bokuto’s wrist and blinked at Hajime for a moment, most likely going through everything he knew of that Hajime owned and wore (including the assortment of stuff in their room of clothing that Suga was the only one who truly knew the exact contents of) and trying to sort out what Hajime had on.  Daichi’s fingers traced the tops of Hajime’s stockings and Suga gasped when he realized what Hajime was wearing; he only had so much clothing that had red on it after all.

“You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“Those were a joke.”

“They fit me.  I’m wearing them.  Joke’s on you.”

The muscles in Bokuto’s arm twitched and Suga shifted slightly, eyes still wide with surprise and locked onto Hajime.

“They were a joke,” he repeated.

Daichi finally inched up the bottom of Hajime’s skirt so he could actually see the top of Hajime’s stockings.

“You’re a joke,” Hajime laughed back.

“You have little bows on your stockings.”  Daichi’s voice seemed distant, like he was on a different continent.  “Little red ribbons around your thighs with little red bows in the front.”

Suga opened his mouth to say something in response but Bokuto did something with his hand that had him cursing instead, attention shifting back to Bokuto.  Daichi’s fingers played with the tiny bow on one leg then traced the line of ribbon towards the inside of Hajime’s thigh and traced up to the bow on his other leg and back again.  A few passes of that soft pressure had Hajime’s skin tingling and his underwear - which fit perfectly well, joke or not, as long as he wasn’t hard like he was getting to be now - starting to feel confining.

Daichi kissed the skin just above the top of Hajime’s stockings and his leg jumped at the sensation.

“Sorry,” Daichi murmured against his thigh, “not trying to tickle.”

Hajime ran his left hand through Daichi’s short hair and sighed.

“I know.”

He let himself drift on the feel of Daichi’s lips pressing against his stockinged thighs and the tug of Daichi catching the bow between his teeth and the slide of Daichi’s fingers down his legs and back up again and the sound of his skirt shifting slightly with each pass of Daichi’s fingers under the edge of it, creeping it higher and higher each time his fingers slid against it.  Hajime barely heard Bokuto groaning out Suga’s name and barely registered Suga grabbing his right hand and pressing it gently against the rapid pulse of Bokuto’s throat.

Daichi’s breath puffed against his thigh and startled his attention back into their living room and he was suddenly aware of having his skirt pushed up to his waist and Daichi wedged between his legs tracing patterns on Hajime’s tight boxer briefs.

“They’re cute,” Daichi announced, finger running along the edge of one of the many almost metallic red lipstick prints scattered across Hajime’s white boxer briefs.  Then Daichi leaned in and kissed over one of the marks just to the side of Hajime’s obvious erection and Hajime’s fingers twitched, one hand still in Daichi’s hair and the other digging into Bokuto’s throat, and Bokuto groaned yet again.

Hajime wondered for a moment if Bokuto’s reactions would help Suga with his whole feeling self conscious in a dress thing.  But only for a moment because Daichi’s lips slid to the side and it was Hajime’s turn to groan at the feeling of Daichi’s breath hot on his dick through the fabric.

“So many lipstick stains,” Daichi muttered, “and none left by me.”

Fuck.

Now Hajime was imagining Daichi with bright red lips.  Pressing them to Hajime’s skin.  Wrapping them around Hajime’s dick.  Sucking on Hajime’s fingers.  Biting into Hajime’s shoulders and throat.

Daichi nuzzled at Hajime’s thigh, nipping it gently.  “What’re you thinking about Hajime?”

“You wearing lipstick,” he answered honestly.  “And wrecking me because of it.”

Suga whimpered and Hajime’s gaze flickered to him.  Bokuto’s hands were under his skirt and Suga’s eyes were wide and locked onto Daichi’s face, more specifically his lips.

“I did not know,” he managed to gasp out around whimpers as Bokuto’s hands twisted and slid against him, “that Daichi in lipstick was something I needed.  Fuck,” he hissed, body tensing and shuddering.

Hajime could feel Bokuto’s pulse rocketing under his fingertips and he gave Bokuto’s neck a gentle squeeze.

Then Daichi pulled his dick out of his underwear and slipped his lips around it and Hajime couldn’t focus on Bokuto or Suga or anything other than the way Daichi’s lips thinned and how they’d look painted deep red.  Daichi’s eyes twinkled like he knew exactly where Hajime’s thoughts were before he closed them and sank forward, slowly working Hajime’s dick to the back of his throat with shallow motions and tiny swallows until his lips were wrapped around the base.

It wasn’t going to be a long drawn out event.  Not with the way Suga whimpered next to him on the couch and Bokuto’s groans rumbled against his fingertips and thoughts of Daichi running through his head doing this exact same thing but with plush red lips and leaving lipstick stains across Hajime’s thighs and throat and chest messy and wet and hot just like Daichi’s fucking mouth right then.  He wasn’t even using his hands, one was wrapped around Hajime’s ankle and the other was tucked under his thigh, and fuck that was hotter than Hajime remembered it being.

“Daichi,” he whined.  More of a warning that he wasn’t going to last too long if Daichi didn’t let up than anything.

Daichi pulled back slowly until Hajime’s dick just barely left his mouth.  “Hajime,” he replied, voice husky, lips brushing against Hajime’s tip.  Daichi licked his lips and Hajime whined again at the barest brush of Daichi’s tongue against him.

Bokuto turned his head and pressed his face into Hajime’s thigh, inches from Daichi’s head, and let out a string of curses that largely consisted of Suga’s name and the word fuck.  Hajime had enough time to process that Suga had his hands in Bokuto’s sweatpants and then Daichi’s lips were around him again and he dropped his head against the back of the couch with a groan.

Hajime’s stocking clad toes curled against the floor and he let out a long moan.  Daichi pulled away after he was finished and carefully tucked Hajime back into his underwear and Daichi’s lips were pulled into an almost triumphant grin as he tugged Hajime’s skirt back down as best as he could with Bokuto’s head heavy on Hajime’s thigh.

Hajime tapped Daichi’s hip with his foot and looked at him expectantly.

“We can take care of me later.”  Daichi grinned.

Suga slumped to the side to press his cheek against Hajime’s shoulder.  “Maybe the three of us can take care of him,” he laughed softly.  “He can try looking up _my_ skirt this time.”

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to come yell at me on [Tumblr](http://ezzydean.tumblr.com)


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